Friday, February 28, 2014

Is
a woman’s voice to my rear as I ...reach upward to close the hatchback.I turn.It is the... woman’s-friend-who-was-scrutinizing-my-dirty-cat-food-dishes...
and I.

“I
know your not using those dishes for the cats.” she says.

“I...
yeah:Right.”

“You
know what those are.Those are
ANTIQUE plates.Those are ENGLISH
CHINA.You know that.”

“Oh
yes.”

“I
didn’t want to say anything but I KNEW you aren’t going to use those for CATS.

“Well
I COULD use them for cat food.”

“Maybe
SHE thought you are but I know better than that.”

“Good.She does too.”

“That’s
what I’d hope.I’ve heard a lot
about you but I haven’t actually SEEN you until just now.I’m JANICE:Janice Stillwater.”

“Yes.”
I said while nodding and... going into defense mode.

“I
know who you are.”

“Good...
I suppose.”

“Theodore
has told me all about you.”

“Theodore?”

“Mr.
(Dump); our computer man.

“Ooooh.He knows me very well.”

“He’s
very jealous of you.I learned
that right away.”

“Jealous?”

“Why
would he always talk about you if he weren’t so envious?”

“Of
what; this?” I say with a gesture to the banana box... full of ‘antique’ ‘dirty
dishes’... resting before us within the open hatchback.

“Just
this morning he said to me that he was surprised you weren’t here.But then you showed up.You went right back to that table and I
saw you do that.I said ‘Mickey
(her friend); we’re going back there’.Mickey didn’t care.You
were already inside!”

“She
told me to go in there.”

“Yes.Of course she would.Anyway... that box full looks like
quite a TREASURE.”

“It’s
treasure.But not the way you
think it is.”

“Well
that’s a BOX FULL of English china for twenty-five dollars.I’d say it’s a treasure.”

“Not
at all.First off, it’s not
china.Do YOU know what it is?” I
say turning and lifting the lid of the banana box off.

“Well...”
Janice says bending into the hatchback to overview the box... of dirty dishes.

“Tell
me.” I say.

Janice
looks from the box to me... and then back at the box.

“Tell
me so I know that you know... or don’t know.

Pause.

“You
don’t know.” I say.

“Well...
now... just a minute.There are
about twenty plates.And this is a
lid.To something.”

“Piss
pot.Lid.”

“Piss...
pot?”

“Commode
...slop jar?”

“OH.”

“Right”.

Pause.

“Yes.Continue.” I say.

“WELL
they are all... that I can see... anyway... English STAFFORDSHIRE.From the eighteen hundreds.”

“Nineteenth
century?”

“Yes.”

“Antique...
English... Staffordshire... china... plates?”

“Yes.”

“How
about late nineteenth century English Staffordshire brown transferware
earthenware plates... with a commode jar lid... in RED transferware...”

“Yes;
that’s it.”

“I...
said that; not you.”

“Yes
but...”

“I
go further?”

“I...”

“Aesthetic
movement design... with a rustic movement influence... of the decorative
compositions***; the transfers... on
flat surface; the surface of the plate.Late Victorian.Carrying to
Edwardian.Maker marked.1880’s to World War I.All... nothing special.The piss pot lid is older then many of
the plates.I wonder how that got
mixed in.”

“If
it keeps up like this; the Savage estate in banana boxes, the courtship is
over.We’re married.”

“What
do mean by that?”

“People
sell things to me that they shouldn’t and... other people who see this just
stand there and do nothing.”

“Do
you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Well
what am I going to do with a box of dirty dishes?Theodore told me how CRAFTY you are.”

“I’m
sure he did.And he would
know.About being crafty.How come this box isn’t in your trunk?HIS TRUNK?”

“I
didn’t even get a chance too...”

“Oh
please; you were doing nothing.You want to buy the box?I’ll sell it.”

“Sell
it?”

“Go
get Theodore to tell you how much it’s worth and then I sell it to you dirt
cheap.Actually; dirty dishes
cheap.”

“You
will not.”

“Right:You won’t buy it.You don’t buy antiques.”

“Well...
I would have once.But now I have
to watch my expenses.My husband’s
dead you know”.

“Very
common in my world.”

“Yes
I suppose.My mother just died
too.Well... actually three years
ago.I have all her things to
contend with now.”

“You
have an estate?”

“WELL...
all of the two houses.SHE’D MOVED
to a smaller house THANK GOD.And
a cottage.”

“Oh.There you go.She collected?”

“Collected?”

“Antiques?”

“Oh
no but the house is FULL of ANTIQUES.It was all her MOTHER’S.And the cottage too.That’s
on Squirrel Island.THAT’S FULL
too.”

“Nice.”

“I
took Theodore to the house.”

“He
would love that I’m sure.”

“He
only wanted the (postage) stamp albums.He always mentions them”.

“Those
he knows about.” I say.

“Knows
about?”

“Knows
what they are.Any books?He likes OLD BOOKS too.”

“He
looked at the books but never said anything.”

“That
means they’re no good.”

“How
do you know that?”

“I
have chances to see Mr. (Dump’s) appraisal work so know I can depend on his
work with rare books.Anything else
(any other object in front of Mr. Dump)... forget it.”

“Forget
it?”

“Like
these dishes.He would use one for
cat food... and never know the difference.”

Pause.

“You
wouldn’t know what they are either?OR what to do with them?” I continued.

“What
are YOU going to do with them!”

“I’m
either going to sell them to you or get them out of here.”

“I’m
not...”

“Going
to buy them.I know that.You’d never buy antiques.”

“Well
then; you’ll sell them in your store?”

“I
don’t have a store.”

“Well...
sell them SOMEWHERE.”

“No
store.If I had a store... someone
like you would come to it and... not BUY anything.”

Pause.

“You
have antique china?” I say.

Pause.

“I
didn’t think so.” I continue.

“There
are lots of old dishes at my mother’s house.”

“I’m
sure there are.Any good ones?”

“I
really wouldn’t know.There’s
nothing like those.” Janice said gesturing to the banana box... full of dirty
dishes”.

“Those
tell a story.It’s a great
story.That’s why I own them.Do your mother’s dishes tell a story?Tell me a story.”

Pause.

“I
didn’t think so.”

“No
wait.MAYBE they do.”

“You’d
better go check then.Ask Theodore
to help you.”

“You
know:He says that your intuitive
with people.With their
antiques.He’s right about that
you know.He says that about you
and he’s right.You just open the
book and keep reading don’t you.”

“Thank
you.”

“For
what?”

“A
discerning compliment.”

“Well
you man-managed those poor women over there.”

“Go
tell on me.I think who managed
who will find debate. I do concede
that the dirty dishes ARE in the back of my car.And that they didn’t know what they were either.”

“Either?”

“You
don’t... either.”

“Oh.So tell me.Some of these are actually very pretty.Even this lid is pretty.

“Yes;
the design is classic.The
decorations are a damnation of their time.Can’t fake that though.They’d like to huh (make modern day stylized reproduction
‘china’ ‘patterns’).”

“The
decoration?”

“Yes.Victorian.Aesthetic.Rustic.Nice.Right dead center in the estate.”

“In
the estate?”

“What
I’d expect to be there:A very
real accumulation of the old china that should be there; in an estate like
that.That’s what I like about
this (waving my hand toward the banana box).Something going on.I have two boxes of it now.REALLY NEAT to someone like me.”

“Neat.The china.From the estate.Even dirty like this?”

No.Not that.That; identifying the china is EASY.I do (find, handle, buy and sell) paste
(‘old soft paste’ ...with these dirty dishes being [very] ‘late’ for ‘paste’ so
here the word is used as an ‘in-the-trade’ ‘not considered well’ expression)
like this all the time.It’s the
HISTORY.Well... the heritage;
BOTH, that gets me.You know...;
that they (the dirty dishes) are IN THERE.IN the dining room.Still all there.And how
they got there.And how they got
HERE (gesturing toward the strawberry shortcake line).And HERE.” (gesturing to the banana box
in the back.

Janice
looked down at the box again.Then
at my face.

“It’s
not intuitive.IT’S reading
HISTORY.” I continued. “How did they get there?To the estate?THEY BOUGHT THEM; the old china.HOW?At the store.One plate or whatever at a time.One woman, one plate, one day.That’s how they sold it.One at a time.Oh the store would have a dozen of the
same PLATES for sale but a dozen woman would each buy ONE.The peddlers too.That Savage estate would have
peddler wagon’s at the back door all day long once the peddler’s knew.They’d buy.”

“Buy
from the peddlers?”

“Yes.They’d come to the back and find the
housekeeper or hired girl.She’d
fetch the family.Old Captain
Savage was never home.He went
into town all day every day.The
women ran the place.Everything.The peddlers
knew this.‘Bring it to them’ they
did.Always had china for
sale.NOT whole SETS of
dishes.Just pieces.Here and there.That piss pot; the lid.That was peddled.SHE bought for HER ROOM.It was pretty.SHE used it.The Old Captain didn’t care what he pissed in.Then the hired girl dropped it.Down the (outhouse) hole?Probably.GONE.Just the
lid left.A sad day for the piss
pot.But they kept the lid.In the dining room.With the other china.Right?See how I read that?That’s good history to me.Makes that box really come alive huh.That box is like an archeological DIG to someone like
me.I won’t even wash the dishes.”

But
I did.... wash them.

After
a while.

No
one cared.

***This
‘old china’ found here... is a product of a double intellectual art intrigue in
the later Victorian era extending onto Edwardian to WW I.The first is the titled “aesthetic
movement’ that presents the decorative design in the light of flowery ( and
Asian esque) ‘suggestion’.The
second is the titled ‘rustic movement’ that thrusts nature in its natural
setting upon the aesthetic design premise.The result is the celebration of, for example, the old tree
stump as art of itself AND as a subject for art.This all, to no surprise, is now noticed to be a resistance
and rebellion toward Industrialism destroying (‘displacing’) the natural and
the natural realms (a wind in the willows...).

Today,
this that I just wrote is currently well passed over by the fine shoppers who
‘hate nature’ (“I LOVE GOING OUT DOORS” but “don’t”) and ‘love’ (“I HATE THEM”)
shopping at ...box stores of choice AND... the phony up-scale-from-that... BUT
OF THE SAME tawdry design and construction qualities... “good brands’.(Making china and... making exclusive
‘good brand’ china... are, today ‘the same production’:They ...cannot... make ‘china’ the ‘old
way’ and ...cannot make it ‘sort of’ the old way so that... ‘people can (afford
/ will) buy it’.Old china is old
china and is NOT NEW CHINA. Or ‘sort of new’ (post industrial production
methods; ‘Look:No hands’...made...
of the old school)So... all of
this ‘old (antique) china’ has been left alone (‘no one cares’).I am constantly ‘getting it’ for
nothing and, of course, when it is shown stand alone, as here right now, it is
well received(“discovered”) as an
actual relief to the... box store and/or phony ‘exclusive’ “QUALITY
aesthetic”... movements.I remind
that this is English china; English design and inspiration and... of the rural
English ...Richard Jefferies, THE GAMEKEEPER AT HOME / THE AMATUER POACHER,
London 1889 / 1879 (read this author?) era.Too.It is a...
totally makes sense thing actually.Now lost especially as it is, in design, very subtle.I probably should not be wasting the reader's time
with this ‘wind in the willows’.THAT... old tale; w in the w... IS OF THIS TOO.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

They
are wrapped, sort of, in previously-used-several-times-already... including
cookie crumbs and festive holiday chromatics... “tissue paper”.She called it.I took the banana box to a warehouse
(old Maine barn), put the box ‘in’ ‘that’... and forgot about it... all winter.

In
May... “that historical society over there” “is having a spring (Mayday)
fair”.I hear.I went to that.I went to the bric-brac table directly.There were no antiques of any sort for
sale on the bric-brac table or anywhere else at the fair.That was because Helen had not ‘come
back’ “FROM FLORIDA” “yet” I was told... by a woman who would know these
things.

“Oh.”

IN
JUNE... “that historical society over there” was preparing for their JULY
“Strawberry Festival”.That comes
after... due to the previously explained ...statues... of WASP etiquette (Part
Twenty-Nine [A])... the Fourth of July and the local community’s celebrations
‘of that’.Red, white and blue
“bunting” is “up all month” “in the village”.“THAT” (the bunting) “GOES” in August.THAT is a WASP statue ...too-too.Like a Christmas wreath hanging on a
front door in February, “NOT” ‘goes’... “is tacky”.THAT (‘is tacky’) is a WASP statue TOO-too-too (“They don’t
KNOW any better”).

It is always a close call on the
strawberries (freshness) and... the weather.Strawberry shortcake by assembly line ladled-over-biscuit
“MORE WHIP CREAM?” in the cheapest possible ‘paper bowl’ “ICE CREAM TOO?” ...
with a line that winds across the front yard and down the street on the
sidewalk... does not “move inside” well.Clouds, still air and humidity merge with furtive glances from
‘organizers’ skyward. Groupie local crowding ‘dressed’ for this ‘event’ “fan”
themselves and “look around”. Usually concealed henpeck bickering is “brought
out” by “festival stress” (so titled and told to I as the “why” of any “odd
behavior”).

Who
cares:I went directly to the
bric-brac table.It was “tucked
way back there” in the shade of the historical society’s main historic
building... by the ‘back door’ of the original homestead now used as the direct
in-out route “to the (historical society’s tiny and inadequate) kitchen”.There were no antiques for sale on the
table.The same woman who managed
the three food tables at the Holiday Fair was managing... inclusive of being
the gatekeeper “to the kitchen” (“Careful on the steps UP”).She was still... “actually very
proficient, adept, steady and ‘get the job done’ “no eggnog for me thank you”
(as I previously noted).I don’t
know what was “the drink” at this ‘festival’ but I did hear the word
“daiquiri”.I also heard a “THE
OLD BLENDER; it makes an AWFUL noise”.

The table manager – gatekeeper was
not at all perturbed by any of this TOO so WE were eye to eye on the whole
package of the festival so she... with discerning courtesy and deferential
grace... says to ME before her at her table “YOU ARE THE old DISH man.There’s a BOX of those we JUST had
donated INSIDE the DOORWAY.WE
HAVEN’T had a chance to WASH them.It’s a BOX of DIRTY DISHES.Like the ones you bought before”.

“Oh
yes?(Old) dirty DISHES?You have some more?”.

“Oh,
my, MY:THEY have a whole CAR load
of BOXES they say but ONLY JUST YESTERDAY.THEY haven’t FETCHED THEM OFF yet.JUST the one BOX.GO LOOK at it if you WOULD won’t you.Mr. Carol is GOING UP THIS WEEK to PICK THEM UP”.

(Mr.
Carol is an elderly gentleman who always wears 1930’s type ‘knickers’ and
doesn’t bring much to the table except old jokes found humorous by
men-past-their-prime and... ‘making himself useful’ by doing things like THIS
(picking up the BOXES of OLD CHINA and GLASSWARE... from the dining room (?) of
the Savage mansion (?).

ARE
THEY (the boxes) FROM THERE?

“SHE’S
back.I BELIEVE she is going to
STOP BY LATER.”

I
went up the back door steps and “TO YOUR LEFT TOWARD THE SHED”.

“Careful
on the steps UP”.

“THANK
YOU.”

This
was the moment of the D-DAY of the Savage Estate contents... distribution...
and I ...was on the beachhead of the distribution... and I was the ONLY person
on the beachhead of the distribution... and I...

Was
TOO STUPID to recognize this and even ‘occur’ the THIS WAS POSSIBLE.Let alone that THIS was the way it; the
distribution of the contents of the Savage mansion, was ...going to be.

Done.

And that this was aWINDFALL in my lap:

IN
MY LAP.

All
I was going to have to do was ...buy banana boxes of old ‘cleaning out’
‘clutter’... for pittance and ‘I’ll get it all’?It (this process of Savage estate contents distribution) has
now been going on for over a decade.The historical society’s bric-brac table will have more ‘new’
‘donations’ for sale ...again... ‘in a couple of months’.

AND
NO ONE CARES.

I
went up... step... step... step-step......:

LEFT.

DOWNWARD
visual SCAN.

BANANA
BOX.

Top
on.

Old
dishes visible through top hole.

BEND
over-down and lift-pull lid off.

SCAN.

“I
ah...”

LID
BACK ON.

“AH...”

TAKE
THE WHOLE DAMN BOX OUTSIDE RETARD.

Dirty
(“no”) banana box FULL

“Heavy”

The
old dishes clank together as I

“UP”.

Turn.

Doorway.

“Careful
on the steps.Oh you shouldn’t
have brought it ALL out.”

“The
box out?”

“Well
yes.It’s HEAVY.”

“Not
bad.”

“DID
YOU SEE anything YOU’D LIKE?”

“See?Anything?Ah... well... the whole BOX.”

“Box;
the WHOLE box?”

“Of
dishes.I didn’t LOOK very CLOSE”.

“They
are very dirty.”

“Dishes.All dirty dishes”.

“Well
a dollar a piece for any you’d want”.

I
set the box down, remove the lid, scan, count while wiggling my finger among
the dirty dishes.The table
manager tends another woman while that woman’s friend scrutinizes I, the box,
the dishes and ...my ever more dirty hand.Hearing a pause in the tending talk above me I say
“TWENTY-TWO.SOME ARE BROKEN.TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS for the BOX FULL.”

“No, no,” I say while quickly fluffing a twenty and a five
from my jacket pocket to ‘before her’.

She
looks at the money, then I, then takes the money.“Thank-you.”

“Thank-YOU.”

“No.WE thank YOU.”

I
am already bent over ...again... putting on the box lid.A few ‘old dirty dishes’ peek through
the top hole on the banana box lid.The ‘friend’ is still ...scrutinizing... EVERYTHING.“What do you DO with THOSE?” she says.

Iconic
objects; objects that are icons, plague the antiquarian interest... and
art.This plague ...of the art
eye... is constant harassment to I ...from ‘somebody or something (often
passive)’.Iconic objects effect
ALL of my professional social passage as an antiquarian... except the darkest
hiding inter-mind art discourse ‘spinning’... alone ‘way in there’ (the
mind).Aside from that dark inner
mind-of-art portal, I ... “it is one” (iconic object).It is not the object that plagues... it
is the ‘good people’ ...that plague.

When
Janet held up the teddy bear(Part
Twenty-Nine [B])...at double table distance from I, my eye knew “cold” from my
poise.It (“HE”) (the teddy bear)
“is one” I knew; “BUTTON IN THE EAR I SEE IT”.I didn’t know then that there was a BAG too... until seconds
later.THAT TOO... an iconic
object TOO.TWO... TOO (object
icons).

“HORROR”.

“How
much?”

“OK
I’LL BUY IT (“HIM!”).And I got
Dan, the bear-in-bag... out of there.

So...:Someone DID THAT; put the bear in the
bag.NOT JUST ANY BEAR in ANY
BAG.I mean... they monogrammed
the bag with Dan’s name too.“ISN’T THAT CUTE!”.And
just let it go at that?

I...
know better than that .So... Mrs.
Turnbridge (“Cathy TOLL Bridge:WITH HER... YOU HAVE TO PAY!”) spoke to me with her coat over her
arm.She was leaving too. “I WAS
GOING TO BUY THAT BEAR.I DIDN’T
SEE IT WAS DAN AND CAME IN THE BAG.”

“I
didn’t either”.

“Well
you know MRS. FOSTER’S MOTHER had that BEAR in the NURSING HOME.SEE...:DAN:I DIDN’T
KNOW IT WAS DAN.SHE DIED.IN SEPTEMBER.HER MIND, you know.”

“As
is everyone’s mind”.

“WELL
SHE USED TO BE RAZOR SHARP”.DAN
was HER BABY BEAR:When she was
LITTLE.BABY BEAR.JUST LOVED THIS BEAR.You understand.”

“Of
course”

“I
DIDN’T KNOW that his NAME was on a BAG.What are you going to DO with HIM.”

“Show
him to my wife.”

“OH...
How interesting... DO YOU... THINK SHE’LL KNOW WHAT HE IS?”

“Of
course”

“HE
HAS THE BUTTON IN THE EAR.”

“Right.AND his own BAG.

“Yes.That too.That IS very nice they DID THAT.But you know that; I know you.”

Then
I got out of there.Evidently Dan
showed up ZIPPED UP in the bag straight from the nursing home to the ... scarf
and mittens holiday fair table Janet-of-the-spiked eggnog was managing?She found the bear?Unzipped the bag.I don’t think so.Those women knew about the bear, the
bag, the ‘Dan’ and his nursing home story (heritage).Did they know about the bear’s design history?It appears that some women, at the
least, did.Did they know about
Dan’s positive art qualities?What
about the bag’s positive art qualities.WHO EVER PUT the Dan-in-bag PACKAGE together to “GO GIFTED” to the
nursing home DID absolutely KNOW.The bear was carefully chosen.The bag was carefully chosen.BOTH are ‘high test’ object icons ‘of impeccable qualities’, maker
branding, name branding and universal hands down “You’re ok with that” social
“Need a clean hand towel?”... ‘secured site’.“Nobody needs to UPDATE with THAT:YOUR FINE.”

So
I knew all of that too... including how these “THAT” slip through the
commercial grid of this setting (the holiday fair) for simply ...no other
reason... than... “THAT:YOUR
FINE.”... and a glass or two of spiked eggnog amongst friends:“WE DIDN’T KNOW DAN WAS IN THE BAG
because WE WERE IN THE BAG.Evelyn
FOUND HIM.”

“YOUR
SO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO... WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH HIM?”

“Sell
him at auction in New York.”

“NO
REALLY”.

The
dust of I... “a dealer; you know he IS ONE.” purloining Dan-in-bag settled
about a half mile down the road.I
did check my rearview mirror to ‘see’ if there was ‘pursuit’.

“OH
ISN’T THAT CUTE” has been the EVER AFTER.Except for me.I know
better.

Starting
with the tote bag... I do... because that’s easier to ...get through.The tote bag doesn’t have a face...
that my face... looks at its face ...looking at MY face... to... confuse me
...when I’m “I go a-fishing” “Isn’t that pretty.” for ...art.

Yeah
I can spin the damn tote bag ALL OVER the abstract art world and getting
real... like... ‘texture’... fabric ‘movement’... hard edge color... soft edged
murmurs on ‘flat planes of’.I can
even touch 'suggesting erotica' with ...the zipper.“OH you BAD BOY: not DAN’S BAG for THAT.”

The
actual issued result ...of mind-spins-looking-for-art... is... ‘pretty
cool.I mean...; “neat”.I mean... “I think.” (feel?).Yeah:Why that?Because... it isn’t there that way.It’s ‘the other way’ that... ‘something is going on over
...here.’Where’s ‘here’
(hear?).OVER THERE.From a ‘the safe distance’.It’s the icon... It’s OVER THERE.On the floor... under the table.THAT’S where it’s ‘something going
on’... right down to the intertwined handles and fussy
scrunch-of-bottom-corners:“IT’S
SO COOL THE WAY IT DOES THAT I JUST LOVE IT”.

So
does the bank behind the store.There’s a memo on that... somewhere.There’s also bag history.Bag heritage.Bag... “yeah I got one of those” and bag... “IT’S THE ONLY ONE THAT'S THE
REAL ONE”.

Line
in sand.

Never

Ever

CROSSED

Except
“mine's getting dirty”.

Tote
bag courtesans

They
are called

When
posing before the door

Of
a summer season’s store.

That
is where art has to get into the lifeboat and row away from the sinking.

The
bear... with the button in the ear tag icon UPON ‘THAT FACE’ icon upon the
whole “IT’S JUST LIKE THE ORIGINAL (1903-04) BEAR” icon... upon a

Table
that... gets completely lost from view ‘by that’ (“the damn bear”).Overwhelming to ALL of the ‘most of
them’ who... they’re not even EVER going to bother to think of thinking that
one THINKING could ‘get past’ THAT: “I LOVE IT IT’S SO CUTE”.And I don’t really care anyway because
power icons like the bear and bag don’t come up that often:Not more than, like, a couple dozen
times a... day.That’s where the
‘It is one’ comes from... a couple of dozen times in my average work day.Icons... are PLAGUE to one’s art
eye.Easy... art... so many stall
therein ...the world of them, the ...world of art that ...is them “SEE”.Falling short; short sighted I KNOW
QUALITY orange cones deployed NO RISK (risk? What is risk?) safety “SEE” “OVER
THERE:SHE HAS ONE TOO.”

A
white SUV on my bumper... on the winding cow paths of old New England... art
and antiques... now RACE WAYS of ...iconic art ... “I BOUGHT IT... butI gotta pick up my kids I’M LATE YOUR
DRIVING TOO SLOW.My old one got
dirty”.

If
I put the bear; “Dan”, on the table... and the tote bag under the table... the
table disappears.It is pitched
and... turned up side down.It’s
‘too much’ to compete with... even though the table... could well be...
‘better’ ‘art’... in terms of its... heritage, history, antiquarian virtue and
positive art qualities.It can not
withstand... the visual attack of the... power icons and the mind ...of THAT
mind’s art eye supporting it (the icon).

Unless
one says... ‘that’s a... power icon art... over there... say good bye’.That is... one chooses by art choice
to... get into the lifeboat and row away from the sinking.

Most
do not.Most ‘do that’
‘forever’.It’s easy.It’s ‘high spots’ art. “EVERYONE”... ‘knows what THAT is’.“They have one THERE TOO.OURS is BETTER”.Really?

And
I have no problem cashing in on this anyway.“They’d never know the difference”.

Two
times earlier in this tale the ‘this’ of power iconic object art has been
noted.The first is when I
...purchase... Aunt Winnie’s John Dreves, Steuben Glass “Olive Bowl”.That; the olive bowl, is an icon.I didn’t need to say so then?I don’t need to say so now?What should I say (query)?Did Helen know that ...it was an icon.DID that knowing cause her to sell the
olive dish.HOW did Helen know
that?Was it instinct... and / or
Helen’s ACTUAL art experience that told her, her art self, that the olive dish
‘didn’t belong’.Did it not belong
because it IS an icon... so ‘others’ are lost by it overwhelming.Is THAT IT: A sold because it was, of
art of the Savage Mansion, “wrong”... and Helen knew it.

I
mean... what am I gonna do with it?

SELL
IT.

To
a high spot collector who... collects... high spots... an I ‘knows it’.

Right?

Number
two notice... and we do need a pooper-scoop to... ‘clean that up’... even
though it CANNOT be cleaned up by ‘anyone’ except that “YOU” and “YOUR INNER
SELF”of art... is when I am first
at Janet’s and Chris (remember Chris? Part Nineteen [A and B]) is there with
her... pressed blue jeans, proper socks and ‘perfectly preserved’ boat shoe
nodding at me.Talk about ‘no
risk’ in art.She’d be having “ALL
BOOKS” “ABOUT ART” removed from the elementary school library “THEY CAN’T SHOW
THAT”.She, of divine taste in
footwear... assures.. ‘her home is that way too’.That’s the home (with art) BETWEEN THE EARS.I do not need to go there either; the home
with the walls.

“There’s
nothing going on over there:No
(art) risk.”

I
don’t like getting in lifeboats and rowing away from a sinking.

I
don’t have a cliff to jump off of to ‘kill myself’.

I
am a picker’ of antiques.I do not
collect, keep or show ANY... THING.I
do not high spot an icon.Or show
one.I expect THEM (all who are
not pickers) to ...do that.I GO

BACK

TO

THE
ATTIC.

To
get away from the ‘them’.

Most
of what is in old New England estates are not icons.

Most
of what is in old New England estates have wonderful positive art qualities,

About Me

This blog is about northern New England antiques and rare books. It is stories, vignettes and profiles of objects and stories of buying and selling these things. Most of the featured items, the settings and the stories are about traditional and classic New England antiques and rare books from before the Civil War.